


Let Me Lay Where I'm Safe

by missgoalie75



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:57:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missgoalie75/pseuds/missgoalie75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> Lydia has never been totally comfortable sleeping anywhere other than her own home. For sleepovers growing up, she participated with the inevitable knowledge that she wasn't going to sleep very well.</i> | prompt: Stiles/Lydia + sleepovers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Lay Where I'm Safe

**Author's Note:**

> **Characters/Pairings:** Stiles/Lydia w/ brief Stiles/Malia 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Title is from "One and Only" by Joshua Radin.
> 
>  **A/N:** My Stydia anon on tumblr prompted this as a drabble and instead they're getting this. I'm very sorry I'm incapable of word limits. Thank you to Annie for betaing on short notice!

Lydia has never been totally comfortable sleeping anywhere other than her own home. For sleepovers growing up, she participated with the inevitable knowledge that she wasn't going to sleep very well. Her mom did question it for her first few sleepovers when she'd pick her up and notice dark circles under Lydia's eyes, but then her parents begin their turbulent years and Lydia stopped being the primary focus in her parents' world half of the time, which was fine by her. She was a precocious child and could handle it.

Despite her home being a broken one on paper, it was still _home_. She felt safest in her room and she loved her soft sheets and her comforter that changed every few years and her mattress. Even when she could hear her parents fighting downstairs and her dad occasionally breaking a glass, she could hide for a little while and be okay.

When her parents finally decide to divorce, she's relieved. When her dad demands she pick a parent to live with, there's no contest. Her mom is the better parent (not by a lot, but still a significant amount) and she can't imagine leaving her house.

Her dad takes a step back, her mom dives into single life, and Lydia gets sucked into the supernatural.

While it started off as confusing and terrifying and _awful_ , there are some good things. Like Allison becoming her first, honest best friend. She's never had one of those before. The pack itself is messy, but it actually feels like they're friends, almost family.

Although she has to say, the biggest surprise in her new life is her weird friendship with Stiles. _Stiles_. The kid who would start saying something in class and then veer wildly off topic until the teacher would tell him to _shut up_ , but not (always) in those words. His doctor is obviously terrible because the medication he's on is never quite right; he's loud, he taps his pen in Literature and it can be _so grating_ and –

Stiles can fall asleep anywhere and in any sort of position. Lydia has witnessed him pass out on many hard chairs, sprawled out on wooden floors – body contorted in ways that _cannot_ be comfortable. Then again, Stiles is just a bewildering person.

It first begins with working on supernatural stuff – pack-related business. There are late nights when they're wired on caffeine and researching on laptops and old books until their eyesight is blurred, but she always makes her way back home. 

But a week after the Nogitsune is gone and things have…settled…Lydia is helping Stiles catch up on missed work. She helps him with Pre-Calc and Physics and they both do their English readings until – 

"Hey, Lyds?" 

She sits up straight and she realizes she's fallen asleep. "Sorry," she croaks, bringing a hand up to cover her large yawn that makes her jaw crack. "W'time is it?" 

"Little after one. Wanna head home?"

Her immediate answer is _no_. While home is home, it's also where she's been crying nonstop and she's just _tired_ – 

"You don't have to – you can sleep here. I've slept on this floor many a time," he says and she doesn't know if he's joking or not. Probably not. 

She gives him a small smile. "Thanks." 

He reaches over and pats her shin. "Can you just grab me a pillow?"

And that's the first night she has a sleepover with Stiles. For reasons she can't fathom, she sleeps through the night soundly and only wakes up because Stiles' dad storms into his room demanding that he get up and dressed for a dentist appointment. He's more than a little surprised to find a five-foot-three-inch girl in his son's bed, but he's a little more at ease when he finds his five-foot-eleven-inch son on the floor. 

That should've been the first and only time, but it happens again a week later and Stiles' dad is prepared with pancakes and scrambled eggs in the morning. Stiles' and Lydia's legs touch under the table – her knee nudging his thigh and they smile at each other. She tries not to think of its significance. 

Stiles catches up with school work and yet it happens _again_ when they're not doing anything important. They're watching History Channel specials and mindless MTV shows and she just doesn't feel like leaving the warmth of the throw blanket from the Stilinski couch. 

She figures that when Stiles and Malia officially become a _thing_ that it'll end. But of course, Stiles doesn't quite grasp some important social concepts – or just doesn't care – and doesn't kick her out of his room after a late night. She half expects Malia to say _something_ about it – she has a heightened sense of smell and she must _know_ – but she doesn't. 

She almost brings it up to Malia – they should maybe _talk_ about it: Stiles dating Malia but is also good friends with his old crush. It has to be weird, right? 

"I don't mind," Malia says when Lydia sits across from her and is about to speak. 

"Mind what?" 

"You and Stiles. I mean, you knew each other way longer than I have. And besides, you lost your best friend. An important person to the pack, but especially to you." 

But it's not just about losing Allison – even Allison was starting to notice _something_ happening. Regardless, Lydia nods and they eat their lunches in silence until everyone else joins them. 

The worst is when she's teaching herself Korean, reading on her stomach, and Stiles is on his computer writing a history paper with his laptop now resting on her calves and Malia sneaks in through his bedroom window. 

"Oh. I thought she'd be gone by now." 

Lydia winces at Malia's bluntness and Stiles rests one of his hands on the heel of her foot. 

(She forgot about her grandma holding her feet when she was little as they read together and it's amazing how it comes back to her in an instant.) 

"Lydia?" 

She swallows and fights back tears. She used to be so good at it. "Sorry, I'll go." 

At least she can still gracefully exit a room. 

(It's just too bad when she passes by the kitchen, Stiles' dad is there and he's just so kind and unlike her own dad that she doesn't really make it to her car, but he thankfully doesn't call after her.)

**

Even though she (usually) doesn't sleep comfortably in other people's homes, there's one thing she won't have: people sleeping in hers.

No guy has ever slept in her room. Sure, she _sleeps_ with them in her room, but staying the night? No. That doesn't happen, that's not allowed. Even her mom doesn't bring men back to the house – ever since her dad left, no guy has stayed the night. 

Of course Stiles doesn't recognize the weight of Lydia internally debating because he's already asleep on her bed, his textbook on the floor along with his notebook and pen. 

This is an anomaly. They're _always_ at Stiles' house (it helps that he has that giant board in terms of organizing and throwing ideas around (but also it's comfortable)). But with Stiles' dad working the nightshift, Scott and Kira having plans (Lydia thinks they're _finally_ going to have sex), and Malia and Stiles no longer a thing, Lydia suggested her home for a change. 

He's been in it before, but it's different (she really wants him here, he's like her best friend, she actually checked the clock more times than necessary during AP Calculus knowing –)

So long ago, Allison pleaded with her _don't you remember what that's like_ and _you've had boyfriends_ and Lydia could only respond _no_ and _not like that_. 

(She doesn't admit it to herself but she may…) 

She's already changed into pajama pants and a sweater, so she goes to her vanity and takes off her makeup, carefully removing her mascara and then her foundation. She goes to the bathroom and washes her face with her numerous face products and when she steps out, Stiles is sleepily staring at her. 

She holds her breath; inexplicably heavy gravity holds her still. 

He smiles and it's a little dopey – his eyes fluttering shut and her heart aches. She wishes Allison were here to help her through this crisis of emotion because she's at a loss and Allison _knew_.

Lydia swallows over the lump in her throat and heads to bed, slipping under the covers. She looks up at the ceiling and after a minute, she hears Stiles shift and roll to his other side to face her.

"Do y'want me to leave?" he asks quietly, slurring his speech a bit. 

She would normally make a comment about not wanting him to drive when he's sleepy and kill himself, but instead she shakes her head. 

"Lydia."

She squeezes her eyes shut and counts to three. On three, she exhales and rolls to face him. 

"Your bed is super comfortable. I may need to steal this pillow. You think I'm joking, but you'll be short a pillow come tomorrow." 

She smiles, her chest warm and it was always hard dealing with Stiles' support and general goodness. Sure, he can be an asshole, but his heart is big and he loves hard.

She reaches over the small space between them and he meets her halfway, fingers lacing together. She wants to be closer, but Stiles shuts his eyes and even though she hasn't been rejected, it somehow feels that way. 

She shuts her eyes and ignores tears rolling down her face. 

**

She wakes up with the strap of her tank top off her shoulder, very nearly flashing Stiles, and Stiles sitting up with his hands raking through his hair.

She clears her throat and adjusts her top. "Stiles?" 

He's slow to look at her. "You said my name." 

She swallows and realizes her mouth _is_ a little dry. She quickly sits up. "Oh. I don't normally talk in my sleep. I mean, Allison says…said…I have once or twice, but just…nonsense." She clears her throat again.

Stiles gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. She hears the sink turn on and smiles. He comes back out a few moments later with a cup of water, crawling back into her bed before giving her the cup.

"Thanks." She sips at it for a minute, mainly so she can put off speaking. 

"I do it too. Say your name. Sometimes. It was awkward explaining to Malia why that happened once when she stayed the night, but."

She finishes her water and exhales. "So, what? We already know we're…connected after…"

"Yeah."

"You're my best friend," she admits quietly. 

"I love you."

She shuts her eyes. 

"Lydia." 

She hears him shift closer to her and she rests her head on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "I love you too." 

He smiles against her temple. 

"What?" 

"Past me would've passed out from excitement by now." 

She shakes her head with a small smile. "And now?"

"Well…I kind of feel lightheaded still, but I just…" he trails off then shakes his head.

 She rolls her head forward so her forehead is resting on his shoulder. She lifts her head a little and kisses where the collar of his shirt ends and his skin begins. He brings an arm around her shoulders, his hand drift from her shoulder to the back of her neck.

She bites back a groan.

"You're tense, Lyds." 

She snorts. "Can you blame me?"

"No," he laughs, his face now _so close_ – 

She shuts her eyes and tries to breathe evenly, but she can feel it, something that hasn't happened to her in so long or maybe even never before – _tension_. Real, honest – 

"Lydia?" His voice is quiet and his breath is shaky and she closes the distance to kiss him, her mouth pressing lightly against his.

It only lasts for a few moments, but _something_ eases inside her – a coiled knot that's been settling in her chest for a while now. 

She presses her lips together and glances at him. "So, when you said 'I love you…'"

One of Stiles' hands ends up cradling her jaw and pulling her in for another kiss – open-mouthed and wet and _so good_. Maybe the relieved, _happy_ laughter bubbling in her throat and Stiles' too heavy breathing are both too obvious to ignore, but this _means_ something.

They'll have a talk tomorrow morning. It'll undoubtedly contain her exhaling exasperatingly and his stuttering his way through a confirmation of their altered relationship. She can't really blame him for that since his first relationship was with a girl who disappeared from society for almost a decade. It will take them a few minutes – ten at the most – since they're both clever and if they've learned _something_ these past two years is that it can end bloody and terribly and what's the point in fighting against things you want? 

But for now, she'll keep kissing him until they fall asleep. After all, she can deduce that they both have imagined this for a while (he for longer but she had infinitely more material to work with in the shorter amount of time) and there's simply nothing wrong with putting their libidos first for once. Mind over matter can kiss her hot ass just this once.


End file.
